A Hollow Heart
by FacelessGhoul
Summary: INDEFINITE HIATUS! Even if we die, it is not the end. It is only the beginning. ((Warning: Dark themes, blood, violence, reincarnation, possible yaoi and/or shounen-ai in future chapters...)
1. My Only Sunshine

Darkness was everywhere. A thick fog had settled in, making the scene ever more eerie. The roads were wet with water from recent showers, but now the air was filled with a deceiving calm. Only the sparsely placed street lamps, the moon, and stars lit up the town.

The sound of staccato splashes was heard as a pale man was running through the puddles down the road with a heavy burden over his back. His skin was alabaster, his hair pale as freshly fallen snow. His appearance had an otherworldly beauty to it, and may have been quite attractive if it weren't for the haunting yellow and black eyes. Yellow and black eyes that darted around warily, searching for an unseen attacker while the man continued to run.

His face and clothes were drenched in blood, but it was not his own.

The man cursed under his breath darted into a narrow alleyway, easing his burden down onto the cobblestone path. It was another man; one who was oddly similar to his more pale counterpart, if it weren't for his vivid orange locks and suntanned skin. Skin which was slowly losing its beautiful coloring, becoming more and more pale by the second.

The orange-haired man was whimpering, tears streaking down his face, his eyes clenched tightly shut. His white counterpart felt a pang in his chest, despite the fact he should not have a heart, for his companion.

He sat down on the cobblestone, curling behind the orange-haired man and clasping a hand over his mouth, "King," he whispered, "King, ye gotta be quiet, or he'll find us. I'm gonna get ya to a doctor, promise. It's gonna be okay, King."

His pleas for quiet were either unheard or ignored as the orange-haired man cried and shivered in his arms. The white man swallowed down the lump growing bigger in his throat.

"I-It's gonna be okay," he promised again, though his voice weak and unsure.

His orange-haired counterpart shook his head faintly, the motion softened by his slowly dying body. He took in rasping, labored breaths, each making both of them fear the next that came would be his last.

"Shiro," the orange-haired man said, "I… I know I've never said this before… I'm s-scared…"

Shiro shushed him, rocking him back and forth, "I know, I know, Ichigo. It's gonna be okay. It… it's gonna be okay. Soon he'll lose interest, and we can get ya to a doctor."

"I don't wanna die," Ichigo told his pale counterpart, "Sh..ir..o… I don't wanna die…"

"Ya won't," Shiro snapped, but there was no bite in the words. "Ya won't die. We're gonna be okay, both of us. We'll make it outta this."

"'m not… gonna make it," Ichigo said, voice weakening evermore.

Shiro's frame shook as he hugged his other half harder, "Don't! Don't say that. You'll live. You gotta. I need ya."

Everything grew eerily more silent. There was not a single sound, save for the raspy in and out of Ichigo's breathing. If it weren't for that, Shiro would have feared he'd already passed.

"Shiro," Ichigo said after the quiet had stretched for a while.

"Hm?"

"You… remember that song?" he asked pitifully. "The one... Mom would sing me to sleep with…?"

Shiro hesitated, the lump in his throat returning with a vengeance. He gulped it down, "... I do."

"Sing it for me?" He opened watery caramel-colored eyes to stare up at Shiro hopefully. "One last time?"

Shiro nodded numbly, lifting a hand to run nimble fingers through soft, tangled orange locks. He sighed shakily, closed his eyes. " _You are my sunshine… my only sunshine… You make me happy, when skies are grey…"_ he opened his eyes to see a small smile on Ichigo's face, " _You'll never know, dear… how much I love you…"_ and the smile slowly loosened, a few final tears leaked free as his body grew limp. Shiro trembled, hugging Ichigo tightly to himself. He took in a shuddering breath, a single tear falling down to land on Ichigo's bloodless face.

" _Oh, please don't take my sunshine away."_


	2. It Has Begun

**Author's Note: Yeahh, this starts off pretty boring in all honesty. Hoping to get things picking up to a more interesting pace though.**

* * *

Soft caramel-colored eyes fluttered open to stare at a plain white ceiling. The teen with untamed spiky orange locks sat up slowly in his bed, rubbing a hand through his hair. Sunshine was coming in through the only window in his room, on the left side of his bed.

He sighed, "What a strange dream."

"Good mooo _rning,_ Ichig _oooo!"_

There was a loud crash as his window was shattered, allowing his crazy jackass of a father to come through with a flying kick. Ichigo ducked under his father's sneak attack before rising with a roundhouse kick to his back, sending the lunatic careening into the closet door. The man cried crocodile tears as he held his head, but Ichigo wasn't having any of it.

Without hesitating, he stomped over and slammed his foot down on his dad's chest and stared him down, "How many times do I have to tell you to quit breaking in through my window every morning?!"

With that part of his routine done, he turned to go to the bathroom. He was in dire need of a morning piss.

"Oh, you're becoming an admirable foe, my son," Isshin praised, then a sneaky grin appeared on his face and a gleam in his eye, "but you should never turn your back on your opponent!"

Isshin's face crashed right into the foot Ichigo picked up to kick him with at the last second. The goat-faced man wobbled a bit before slumping down to the ground, face-down.

Isshin held up a thumb high in the air, "Great work, my son!"

Ichigo just groaned and turned back to continue his venture to the bathroom uninterrupted this time.

He was sure to quickly lock the door behind him, not trusting his father to allow him privacy otherwise. He took his piss and washed his face with some ice cold water.

As he opened his eyes, he jolted. He squinted, staring at his reflection in the mirror, trying to discern if something was different. He couldn't help but feel suspicious. Something seemed to be missing, or different, but he could not pinpoint what it was.

Shrugging it off, he grabbed up his toothbrush. He jammed his toothbrush with ample amounts of toothpaste into the side of his mouth, then opened the door of the bathroom for Karin, who was banging on the door incessantly while demanding that he let her go pee.

He stepped aside, gesturing broadly with a slightly muffled, "Sh'all yoursh."

She ran into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind her. While idly brushing his teeth, Ichigo wandered back into his bedroom to look through his closet for some clothes to wear.

He only had one uniform left. He'd have to stuff his clothes in the wash tonight, so he'd have something to wear tomorrow. Grabbing some clothes and a fresh pair of underwear, Ichigo returned to the bathroom just in time for Karin to come out. She was just opening the door as she sighed in relief.

Ichigo chuckled, "Shorry."

Karin snapped a glare at him, "I ought to kick you for that," she said, but as she did so she was already walking off down the hallway and down the stairs.

After he was freshened up and dressed, he came downstairs to see Karin at her usual spot watching television, Yuzu busily cooking up a storm at the stove, and his father himself reading a newspaper at the table as if he'd never attacked Ichigo and gotten his ass handed to him.

He grabbed the toast that had just popped up in the toaster, only taking a moment to spread butter on it, and popped it into his mouth.

Ichigo grabbed his school bag, going to put his shoes on, "I'm going to school," he announced to his family.

Yuzu glanced over her shoulder from the pan of bacon she was cooking, "You're not going to have breakfast?"

Ichigo pointed to the toast he'd stuck back in his mouth.

Yuzu pouted, "Fine, big brother, but you're going to be here for your birthday dinner, right?"

When he nodded, his youngest sister cheered and did a little dance.

Karin gave him a brief glance, "Good luck at school, big brother."

Ichigo in return gave his sister the briefest of smiles, "Thanks.

As he turned to open the door, his father called out to him.

"Ichigo."

"Hm?" he looked back curiously. His father was unnaturally serious all of a sudden.

"Be careful out there, and get home before curfew."

The boy quirked a brow, "Why?"

Isshin shook his head, "Just do it, please. I have a bad feeling about today."

Ichigo shrugged, "Yeah, sure," he replied noncommittally.

"Ichigo."

"I will," Ichigo said, a little more loudly. "I'm leaving now."

* * *

"Ichigo, buddy!" Keigo cried, throwing his arms around the orangette's shoulders. Hanging off Ichigo's shoulders like some kind of monkey, he asked, "How you been? It's your birthday! Not every day a guy turns seventeen, ah?!"

Ichigo rolled his eyes, pinching the webbing behind Keigo's thumb and forefinger with enough pressure to make him fall. He then kicked Keigo to the side and took his seat.

Keigo didn't stay down for long. The brunette was almost immediately back on his feet and making himself a general nuisance.

"Wow, that was mean," Keigo said with mock hurt, then reverted to his happy-go-lucky self, "I was only trying to be a good friend and be cheerful about the most important day of the year! We should hit the bar, pick up some chicks!"

When Keigo dramatically laid himself out on Ichigo's desk with a forearm over his eyes, Ichigo shoved him off. He fell with a surprised shout and resounding thump.

"Keigo, I think you forget sometimes that we're underage," Ichigo muttered with his characteristic scowl set in place, "I'm turning seventeen, not twenty."

Keigo's face was the epitome of shock, "Wha _aat?_ You mean to tell me that you're not about to be twenty? Stop the press! Ohh, the humanity!"

There was a soft, girly giggle from the doorway. Ichigo looked up just in time to see Orihime walking in, hand poised over her mouth as she laughed at Keigo's antics. Ichigo's face softened ever so slightly at the sight of the girl.

"Good morning, Inoue," he greeted the girl.

"Kurosaki!" the girl cheered, rushing over to take the seat beside him. "How are you today? I just heard it was your birthday! I swear I didn't know, otherwise I would have gotten you a present, oh god, I'm such a bad friend— um, ummm, you know what, you can have my bento!" The girl pulled out the aforementioned bento and thrust it toward him.

"Uh… that's fine, Inoue, honest," Ichigo replied, holding up a hand to decline the offer, "you keep your lunch. You need it more than I do."

"O-Oh, you're right," she said with a blush. She set the bento down with a resigned sigh, but then her face lit up with hope once more. "I'll get you a present tomorrow for sure, though! Promise!"

"Er, you don't really need to…" at the crestfallen expression on the busty girl's face, Ichigo floundered to make amends, "Unless you want to, I mean. By all means, do what makes you happy."

A dopey grin spread across her face, "Of course, Kurosaki! Look forward to it, I'm going to get you the best present ever!"

Orihime ran off to take her assigned seat. Ichigo just shook his head, but there was a fond smile on his face.

Keigo, who'd gone ignored during the exchange, looked back and forth between the two orange-haired people until eventually he stared at Ichigo with a mischievous smile. Ichigo finally noticed this and glared at the brunette.

"What?" he snapped.

"Oh, nothing," Keigo snickered, "just that someone's in lo—"

Then Ichigo kicked Keigo's shin, "No."

"Aw, come on, it's so obvious!" Keigo cried.

Ichigo merely quirked a brow, "What, a boy and a girl can't be friends now?"

Keigo pouted, "Well, no…"

"Good."

Keigo looked like he wanted to protest more, but the teacher had just walked in.

"Everyone in your assigned seats! That means _you_ , Keigo."

"Aww!"

* * *

Ichigo was all too relieved to head home when the school bell rang. He ignored Keigo's shouts to wait up as he walked at a brisk pace away from the school building. Sadly, Keigo was running to keep up, which he inevitably did so.

"Ichi, buddy!" Keigo cried, slinging his arm around Ichigo's shoulders, which Ichigo brushed off the moment he did so. "So I was thinking, buddy, ol' pal of mine, that we could do something fun for your birthday. Have a party, you know?"

Ichigo pretended to look as if he cared, "Sorry, Keigo. Spending time with the family, like I always do. You know how it is."

"Aww, alright then… well, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Sure," Ichigo said dismissively, waving him off. This caused an idiotic smile to spread across Keigo's face before he finally ran off and left Ichigo alone.

Now that the nuisance was out of the way, Ichigo continued walking toward home in peace. The quiet was nice. He could hear birds chirping in the distance, and the even more distant hubbub of commerce and general socialization. He liked being far away from all the noise.

He was walking down an empty street. Normally, it would suit him just fine. Today, it was inexplicably sending a chill down his spine. There was a darkened alley off to the side, and Ichigo had the most random urge to walk into it, though he could not pinpoint why.

He had every intention of continuing his walk home, but before he knew it he'd already stepped foot into the shady alleyway.

As he neared a dead end in the alley, he realized it was not empty as it may have initially appeared from the entrance.

There was a man sitting on the ground, legs crossed and head bowed forward. He wore ragged khaki trousers that were torn and full of holes where they ended just below his knees. A thick cloak of a slightly darker shade of khaki was draped over his shoulders and fastened loosely at his collarbone. The hood of the cloak obscured his face almost entirely.

The stranger appeared to be sleeping, as far as Ichigo could tell. He decided it had gotten creepy enough for his tastes and turned to walk away.

"Wait."

He wasn't sure why, but Ichigo found his body freezing up of its own volition.

"Come closer," the stranger spoke softly, "let me see you."

Again, his body was disobeying him in favor of the stranger. He was already standing before the stranger once more when the thought of why he was obeying so easily popped into his head.

Somehow, the stranger was able to look up at him without revealing his own facial features, it seemed, because that's exactly what he did.

"A beautiful form you've chosen this life," the stranger spoke, "are you ready for what is to come?"

"Wha… what are you—?"

The stranger was gone. As if he'd never been there at all. Ichigo scratched the back of his head, trying to make heads or tails of the situation. Try as he did, he really had no clue whatsoever what just happened.

The rest of his walk home was uneventful. He managed to get home before curfew, and even managed to dodge his father's flying kick sneak attack (an attack that he almost routinely did, whether Ichigo was late or not).

"Haha! You are growing stronger, my son," Isshin complimented him from the floor, "I've teached you all I could!"

Ichigo rolled his eyes and stepped over his dramatic father. Yuzu rushed into the hallway with her oven mitts still on.

"Big brother, you're home!" she cheered, rushing over and jumping at him for a hug.

He managed to catch her and smiled, "I promised, didn't I?" he asked, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

Yuzu giggled as he set her back on her feet, "Happy birthday, Ichigo! Dinner will be ready shortly… and don't peek! The cake is a _surprise_!"

"Right, right," Ichigo said, shaking his head, but smiled fondly. Following his youngest sister's wishes, Ichigo wandered off into the living room, dropping down on the couch beside Karin. "Yo, Karin. Have a good day?"

"Mm," Karin didn't look away from the television just yet. When the commercials started up, she ripped her gaze away from the TV and gave Ichigo a brief smile, "Happy birthday, Ichigo. How was your day?"

The orange-haired teen shrugged, "It was good. I'm glad it's over, though. Keigo was harassing me about a birthday party again. He knows I spend it with you guys every year."

"Maybe you should humor him one of these days. You don't have that many friends," Karin responded.

Ichigo made a comical face, "Hey, what's that supposed to mean? I do too have friends."

Karin stuck her tongue out at him, "Sure you do, you big dork."

Ichigo crossed his arms with a scowl on his face. That scowl dissipated soon however, when a grin slowly cracked across it. Karin and Ichigo always had a weird sister-brother relationship. Karin would make jabs at Ichigo and Ichigo would do the same in kind, but they both meant well when it really mattered. They both knew the other cared.

* * *

Dinner with his family was great. Yuzu made all of Ichigo's favorites, and the cake was no exception. (It was chocolate with chocolate icing, although Ichigo personally could have done with _out_ the strawberries all over it.)

His presents consisted of a reasonable sum of money from his dad (who claimed he was not 'up with the times' and had no clue what teens liked these days), an omamori for protection from Yuzu, and some sort of voodoo themed tiny mask accessory attached to a keyring for either his school bag or wallet. He hadn't decided which he'd rather hook that too just yet.

Overall, it was a good night. He humored Yuzu and Karin by playing a few board games that night before hitting the sack. He was so oddly exhausted that he didn't even have time to think about the stranger from the alleyway before his head hit the pillow and he was out like a light.

* * *

 _Ichigo was walking down a dimly lit hallway. Judging by the little to no light peeking in through the windows lining the wall to his right, it was nighttime. He was moving quickly, as if he was in a hurry for some unknown reason._

 _There was the sound of rushed footsteps from behind him._

" _Ichigo!"_

 _He found himself turning at the sound of the voice he vaguely recognized calling his name._

" _Shiro," the name easily rolled off his tongue, as if he'd known it his entire life._

 _The familiar, yet not, pale man was before him now, grabbing his hand in both of his own black nailed hands, "Ya don't have to do this, Ichigo. Please, don't go! We can come up with a better plan, just give me an' the ol' man some time!"_

 _He found himself forcibly pulling his hand away, saying yet more words he was not thinking for reasons unknown, as if his body truly had a mind of its own. "That is where you're wrong, my friend. I must do this. It is the only way."_

" _Idiot! It is not!" the pale man, Shiro shouted, anger clear in his voice. Anger, but also hurt. Or perhaps betrayal. "Just because we'll come back again doesn't mean we should just eagerly throw our lives away! What about yer friends?! Yer family?! Ya may_ never _have the bonds ya have now with them ever again! Is that okay with ya? Do ya really wanna just throw that away…?"_

" _You know what he wants, Shiro. It's exactly_ because _we'll come back that I_ should _do this. He won't stop until he has it. If I do this now, the artifact will no longer be on this plane of existence. He'll never get it, he dies of old age or whatever eventually, and can't hurt anyone ever again. We win. Simple. Then we can have the life we always wanted in the next._

 _Look, Shiro, I'm not doing this because I don't care. I'm doing it because I care a lot. There will be no happy, peaceful ending if we just sit on our asses and twiddle our thumbs, and let that man get his hands on the artifact. Only the end waits for us then. I don't know about you, but I don't wanna be revived over and over only to see a world that he has destroyed. I'd rather give up my life every time to keep that from happening."_

 _Shiro's hands were shaking fists at his sides, "An' what if yer luck runs out? What if I don't see ya in the next life? What if… what if ya don't remember me?"_

 _Ichigo smiled gently, his body moving to hug Shiro, "I could never forget you, Shiro. We'll find each other in the next life. You'll see."_

* * *

Ichigo woke in a cold sweat, breathing erratic. He held a hand to his rapidly beating heart, waiting for it to begin to steady. There were tears streaming down his face, but he didn't know why he was feeling sad.

"What was that?" he asked the empty air. The air, being the inanimate thing it was, had no response.

Ichigo had no idea why he'd had a dream like that, but he got the feeling it was no ordinary dream.

He sighed, rolling out of bed, "So much for a good night's sleep," he muttered to himself.

Maybe a walk around the block would clear his mind.

* * *

 **Author's Note: By the way! Reviews would be nice, whether you liked it or straight up hated it. As long as the criticism is constructive, I can work with it. Also, let me know if you caught any typos or glaring plot holes, as all my works are un-beta'd.**


	3. Stay The Course

**Author's Note: Sorry this took a day or two more than intended. My muse was not being so complacent for this particular chapter, and I had to beat it into submission. Hopefully, that doesn't happen often, ne?**

* * *

Ichigo's shoulders slumped as he sighed in relief the moment he was standing outdoors. The fresh air was already doing its magic.

He breathed in and out deeply a few times. It was a beautiful night for a walk.

His night continued to be peaceful for all but ten minutes, at which point an odd sight greeted him in the form of a man in a cloak started running right at him. The exact same man he'd seen in the alley, in fact.

"Quickly, take this!"

Ichigo didn't even have time to protest as a small object was placed into his hand. The cloaked stranger was already running away down the street. Without bothering to look at it, Ichigo pocketed the item and took off after the stranger.

It wasn't an easy task, catching up with the guy. Whoever he was, he was fast. As in extremely fast. Perhaps inhumanly so.

Try as he did to keep up with the stranger, Ichigo soon lost him. He leaned back against a wall, hands on his knees as he panted for breath. He wasn't there for long before he felt a strong force push him up against a wall.

A man with piercing blue eyes and flashy hair of practically the same color was before him. A quick glance downward revealed that what was pinning Ichigo by the throat was the back of the man's fist. The gleam of metal caught his eye. The blue-haired man was wearing bladed knuckle dusters.

Ichigo couldn't help the shiver that ran down his spine at the thought that he had one of _those_ pressed against his throat currently. They definitely looked like they could do a number on someone.

"Look, _sunshine_ , here's the deal," the man growled, warm breath wafting over Ichigo's face from how close he was. In another situation, such a detail could have been arousing. In this one, it was simply terrifying. "You're getting your nose a little too close to places it don't belong. If you want to keep that pretty little nose of yours on your pretty little face, you'll back off and never come here again. Understood?"

Ichigo, who hadn't caught the question, was still trying to process just what was going on. What had he gotten himself into? Was this guy part of the yakuza?

Blue dude didn't seem to like that. He growled and pressed harder against Ichigo's throat.

"I _said_ , do you understand?!" the man demanded.

Ichigo nodded numbly. Satisfied, the man released him.

"Good, get your ass out of here. If I see you around these parts again, it won't be just a warning you'll be getting."

Ichigo shuddered at the promise behind the words. He had no doubts that this man meant business.

Normally, he wouldn't have been so complacent when someone tried to push him around. Then again, normally, people weren't able to sneak up on him and have a blade capable of taking his life so close to his throat in an instant.

He'd been ill prepared. Which was humiliating, to say the least.

Ichigo was quick to make himself scarce from the area he'd stumbled upon while chasing the cloaked stranger.

Speaking of the guy, it looked like he wouldn't be finding him tonight. However, they did run into each other twice in one day, so perhaps he'd get lucky. If so, he had many questions burning on the tip of his tongue, desperate for answers.

That stranger was just weird enough… Ichigo was certain he was somehow connected to the dreams.

* * *

The walk he'd intended to take in order to calm himself down had ended up merely giving him all the more questions and worries.

He was laying on his bed, not so much trying to sleep, but more for the sake of habit. His mind was racing with all the most recent events. Ichigo had never been so confused in his entire life. All these damnable confounded events were going to drive him mad.

Not only had he met a strange man who seemed to somehow know him, but that same man had given him some sort of object, then just up and ran off and vanished.

That was it! The thing the stranger gave him. It was still in his pocket.

Shoving his hand into his pocket, Ichigo procured the object and held it above his face. It was pearly white, shiny and round.

"A… marble?" his brow furrowed. All that hype for a marble then? "Lame."

Although, despite his disappointment at the underwhelming reveal of what the object was, Ichigo was reluctant to let the marble out of his sight. After a moment's consideration, he slid it back into his pocket.

Couldn't hurt to keep an eye on it, just in case.

* * *

By morning, Ichigo had gotten absolutely no sleep since his botched relaxing walk, and he was worse for wear for it. The only good that came of it was that he'd given up getting more rest long before the start of school, and as a result was already in the kitchen when Isshin attempted his routinely morning wakeup call ambush.

Ichigo mused in his half wakeful state that morning how the bloody hell his father could afford to replace the window every morning. He could hear his bedroom window shattering all the way downstairs, and even more easily heard were his father's usual shouts.

It took a while for his father to come down the stairs and startle in surprise when he saw Ichigo leaning against the kitchen counter, watching him tiredly.

"Oh," Isshin said, "there you are. Got a little worried when I noticed you weren't in your bed."

Ichigo blinked his dry eyes, rubbing at one of them as it itched terribly. He tried to suppress a yawn and failed miserably.

"Son, you look like death warmed over," Isshin commented, taking in the dark circles under his son's eyes, his messier than usual hair, and the slight paleness to his complexion.

"Thanks," Ichigo replied dryly, "I hadn't noticed. I'd been under the impression I only _felt_ that way."

Isshin immediately recognized that his son wasn't in the mood for their usual daily banter. As such, he backed off with his hands up in surrender, "Sorry, sorry. I can tell you're not in the mood for nonsense today. My bad."

Ichigo narrowed his eyes, as if he might snap, but then sighed heavily and rubbed at his temples, "No, I'm sorry. I just… had a bad night is all."

"I can tell," Isshin replied as he operated the coffee maker. He spared a glance at his son, "Want to know my secret to bad mornings?"

Ichigo shrugged.

"A nice, big cup of joe. Trust me, it'll do you good."

"I guess," Ichigo muttered.

He took a seat at the table, laying his head down to rest it on the cool surface. It helped a little. He was so out of it that he nearly didn't noticed something was amiss in the kitchen. Nearly being the keyword. Ichigo sat up in his seat, watching his father bustling busily around the kitchen.

"Where's Yuzu and Karin?" he asked his father.

Isshin was pouring two cups of coffee, "Hm?" The question took a moment for him to register. He shook his head, "Oh, about that. Yuzu and Karin are both running fevers today. I'm keeping them home for the day. To be honest, I've got half a mind to keep you home too, with how you're looking this morning."

Ichigo declined with a firm shake of his head, "No. I'm just tired. Not sick. I'm going to school. Now give me that cup of coffee before I pass out in this chair."

Isshin chuckled softly, handing over the mug to Ichigo. Ichigo was quick to take a large gulp, then choked and gagged, nearly spitting it back out. It was a struggle to swallow the nasty black concoction.

"Ugh, what _is_ this?"

"Coffee," Isshin replied crisply, "want milk and sugar with that?"

" _Please_."

* * *

School went slow and fast for him all at the same time. The first few classes whizzed by while the caffeine still buzzed through his system. The last classes were more of a slow crawl.

Later that day, Ichigo was walking down the street, going home from school. However, when he noticed a familiar figure in the crowd on the other side of the street, he jolted to a stop.

That was definitely him.

As soon as he noticed him, the man turned tail and ran down an alleyway. Ichigo gave chase.

This time, he was more prepared for how fast the stranger was, and somehow he was able to keep him in his sights. The chase went on until miraculously he had him backed into a corner.

As he drew nearer though, the man pulled something from within his cloak and threw it to the ground. There was a blinding white flash that robbed Ichigo of his vision.

He felt as the man brushed past him, making a run for it, and Ichigo whipped around. His vision was coming back in spots, which meant he was able to see the stranger making his getaway.

Ichigo panicked. He couldn't leave yet. This guy was the only connection Ichigo had! He was having strange dreams, and this cloaked stranger was the only hint there was. He needed to do something. Say something. Something that would buy him time. The only word he could think of was…

"Shiro!"

The cloaked figure stopped dead in his tracks.

"You're him, right?" Ichigo was desperate. He walked closer, trying to grab the man's shoulder to turn him around, "You're Shiro?"

The man shrugged him off, "I'm sorry, but I think you have me mistaken for someone else. I'm not who you think I am."

When he started to run, Ichigo panicked even more. "No! Please don't go!"

It was in that next moment that he realized he'd tackled the guy to the ground. It was an entirely spur of the moment decision, but there wasn't much that could be done for it now. Ichigo flipped the other over, making sure to restrain the man's arms with his knees, so he'd have a harder time getting away this time around.

He pulled down the hood of the cloak only to reveal a mask. One that resembled a fox.

Ichigo frowned and pulled the mask off. Then his eyes widened in shock as he gasped.

"See? I told ya. I'm not who ya think I am."

The stranger was definitely pale, but not nearly as pale as the Shiro from his dreams. The silvery hair that lay flat and manageable, as well as sky blue eyes were also nothing like Shiro.

"You're… you're not him…" Ichigo trailed off weakly.

He'd been so sure. It would have explained so much. Ichigo had been so convinced that this man was Shiro, and now he didn't know what to do. He'd made references about a past life. He'd insinuated that he knew more than he should. It seemed as if it would only be logical.

The man easily pushed Ichigo off. He picked up and dusted off his mask, pulling it back on, then turned to Ichigo, "I'm sorry that ya had your hopes pinned on me. Like I said, I'm not who ya think I am. My name is Ichimaru Gin."

"Oh…" Ichigo replied dumbly. Ichimaru Gin. Not Shiro. What had he been so worked up for?

Gin pulled his hood back up, "But don't lose hope just yet. I know where ya can find him."

"You do?!" Ichigo was standing in an instant. "Tell me! I think he may be the key to finding out what's up with these dreams."

"Dreams…?" Gin sounded confused. There was a pause. "Oh dear. Oh my. This is not good."

"Not good?" Ichigo asked. "What's not good?"

Gin crossed his arms, "Well, ya see, here's the thing. You and Shiro have been intertwined since practically the dawn of time. That ya can't even remember that now is…"

"Is what?"

"I'm not entirely sure myself. To my knowledge, it has never happened before."

* * *

The phrase 'back to square one' would be an overstatement, given the circumstance. Not only was the cloaked figure _not_ Shiro (as Ichigo had initially assumed), but he now knew that there was something horribly wrong with him. God knew what.

Somehow, he was missing a vital part of his being; a part that should have remained with him for all eternity. The severity of the fact he was _missing_ it was not lost on him. Even if he didn't understand quite what had gone wrong, or how that would affect him.

Obviously, Ichigo hadn't wanted to lose Gin, even if he wasn't who Ichigo had hoped he was. So he'd convinced the man to meet up with him on a later date. Hopefully, he'd then be able to press Gin for some real answers.

Until then, he had his home life and school work to focus on. Yuzu and Karin were still sick, and Ichigo had the feeling that whatever bug they'd caught, Isshin was getting it too. Slowly but surely.

He couldn't remember the last time his father had caught any illness at all. At this rate, he may very well catch it too. Which was truly the last thing he need to add to his current list of problems.

Regardless of how the scheme of things was developing, it was needless to say that Ichigo was exhausted. He had not been getting much sleep lately, let alone _good_ sleep.

Thusly, it should have come as no surprise when he dozed off during class. A fact that was sorely resented by more than one of his teachers. If it wasn't for the bizarre exhaustion Ichigo was exhibiting, coupled with the recent sickly pallor his skin had taken, he may have already been reprimanded for his lack of diligence and complete disregard toward the importance of school.

The truth of the matter was that no person, teacher nor student, could deny that Kurosaki Ichigo looked decidedly… _unwell_.

Many people were actually concerned for Ichigo's wellbeing. None more so than some of his closest, most longtime friends. Chad and Orihime. They both watched him closely, and their worry only increased as Ichigo passed out during yet another lecture.

After the class had ended, they pulled Ichigo aside in the hallway.

"Ichigo, you're not looking so good," Orihime told him.

"Mm," Chad said in way of agreement, giving an affirmative nod.

Ichigo merely shrugged, "I've been having a rough few days. Nothing a good night's sleep won't fix." _If I could actually_ get _any_ , he mentally added.

Orihime's brow furrowed as she frowned, "Are you sure? You look ill," she held a hand up to his forehead before he could stop her. She gasped, "Ichigo, you have a fever!"

"I… huh? I guess I do," Ichigo noted dully. He hadn't noticed, but what else was new?

"You should go to the nurse right now," Orihime advised.

Ichigo scowled, "I'll just get my dad to look at me when I get home. No problem."

"No problem?" Orihime was getting uncharacteristically worked up. The frown had looked odd enough on her face, but now she was getting really cross with him. "You've got a fever, and it's not a small one either!"

"Yeah, but—"

Chad stepped in, placing a calm hand on Ichigo's shoulder, "Ichigo, this is not debatable," he said in that smooth voice of his.

Ichigo sighed as his shoulder slumped in resignation, "Yeah. You're right."

Everyone knew not to argue with Chad. He didn't often speak, as he was a man of very few words, but when he did choose to speak, people listened. This was one of those times.

Just to be safe, they still both accompanied Ichigo to the nurse's office.

When they arrived, the nurse took one look at Ichigo and popped a thermometer in his mouth. She pulled it out of his mouth the moment it started beeping, and as she read the numbers on the small screen, her eyebrows rose to meet her hairline.

"Why, this… this is…"

"What's wrong?" Ichigo asked warily.

"I'm going to have to call your father to come pick you up, Mr. Kurosaki. Sit. Now," she jabbed a finger toward a set by the wall. She gave Orihime and Chad a stern look, "And you two, don't you have a class to be getting to?"

"We wanted to make sure he got checked up," Orihime explained.

"And you did. Now shoo, you're taking up space," she ordered as she waved her hands at them.

The two gave Ichigo one last parting glance before reluctantly leaving.

Ichigo anxiously awaited a prognosis. He couldn't help but be nervous about the nurse's reaction, not to mention the way she seemed to sidestep his question. As she called Ichigo's father, he curiously listened in on the conversation.

"Ah, yes, is this Kurosaki Isshin, the father of Ichigo?" she asked, then paused. Her expression grew slightly grim. "This is Kotetsu Isane, the school nurse. I'm advising you to take your son to the emergency room immediately. He is currently running a fever of 40.5."

Ichigo gasped a sharp inhale of breath. He wasn't nearly as good with medical science as the school nurse or his father, but he did know that 40.5 was very bad. The point that a fever started causing brain damage was around 39 degrees.

That explained the nurse's urgency, at least.

He was so caught up in his thoughts and inner turmoil that he hadn't noticed Isane finish up the phone call.

She walked over to Ichigo, a look of concern on her face, "Your father will be here shortly. Do you want to lay down and rest until he gets here?"

"I don't really need…" Ichigo trailed off. A bed sounded rather nice, actually. "Okay," he said after a little hesitation.

Isane broadly gestured toward the bed.

Ichigo laid down in the bed. To his brief astonishment, he was out like a light the moment his head hit the pillow.

* * *

 _Ichigo visibly relaxed as all his preparation had come to an end. Finally, it would come to fruition, and he could be done with this farce. Soon, he could be together with Shiro and they could both forget any of this ever had to happen._

 _He would have to sacrifice his life, but it was a small price to pay for one such as he who could be reborn once more, and who had been reborn many times before. He just wished Shiro could understand that._

 _His partner had seen just as many lives (and consequently, deaths) as he had, linked as they were. It would seem the idea of ending his life prematurely of his own volition was where Shiro began to grow skittish._

 _It was of little consequence. He'd understand in due time. Then they could be happy together in the cliched fantasy the two of them had dreamed up of a happily ever after._

" _Oh my, now this_ is _a surprise."_

 _Ichigo swiveled around. His eyes narrowed, his face twisting up in disgust, "You!"_

" _I see you remember me. Ah, but that is of little importance. You see, you have something that belongs to me," the figure held out a hand expectantly, "I kindly request that you return it without qualm."_

" _The Hogyoku belongs to no one! Begone from this holy place!" Ichigo demanded, making violent broad motions with his hands as he spoke to emphasize his point._

 _The figure remained, a calm smile set in place, "It looks like I'll have to correct you of your behavior. You have brought this upon yourself. Do not say I hadn't warned you."_

* * *

 **"** ** _What are you doing?! Don't!"_**

" _Just watch me."_

" _You can't!"_

" _Oh, but I can, and I will. This is goodbye… forever."_

" _No… don't. Don't! Stop! St—_ _ **AAHHHHH!**_ "

* * *

A loud and high, continuous beep sounded as the heart monitor hit flatline.

"The patient is going into cardiac arrest!"

"Get the defibrillator in here, _now_!"

.

.

.

"Clear!"

.

.

.

"Clear!"

.

.

.

"Stay with us, Ichigo, stay with us!"

.

.

.

"... time of death, approximately 9:45PM…"

"He was so young."

"Someone has to tell his father."

.

.

.

"... that's my son! That's my son you're carting away under that sheet! What are you doing, where are you taking him?! No! He's not dead! He's not— he can't— he… Ichigo!"

* * *

 **Author's Note: Let me know if I've made any mistakes, grammatical errors, have a glaring plot hole. The usual.**

 **By the way, the nurse is using the Celsius scale. From what I've been informed, Japan uses Celsius, so I was trying to be accurate. The equivalent temperature for Ichigo in Fahrenheit would be roughly 105, maybe a tad higher. The temperature in Fahrenheit for brain damage is 103.**

 **Well, until next time!**


	4. Undeath

**Author's Note: Just want to clarify, in case people get the wrong idea… Ichigo is not actually a zombie (at least not in this fic). He is 'something else'. The freak-out is for comedy purposes only. So now that you know, read on.**

* * *

There were many things Ichigo expected to happen upon waking up. Maybe his dad would be there, scolding him for not admitting he was sick in the first place, instead of going to school. Maybe the first face he'd see was that of his doctor, if he'd been out long enough. Or maybe he would have slept through the entirety of whatever illness he had somehow. That would have been a plus.

None of those included waking up here.

He was somewhere dark and slightly damp. The air in the room was stagnant.

There was a man with black hair and circles under his eyes staring down at him, very noticeably disturbed by the fact Ichigo had woken up.

"Ah! Z-z-zombie!" the man cried as he tripped backward over his own feet.

Ichigo scowled at the outburst, sitting up on the… rather uncomfortable metal table. He addressed the man who was now cowering on the floor in a corner with his hands over his head, "You there. Where am I?"

The man made a small ' _eep'_ noise, but answered nonetheless, "Y-you're in Karakura Morgue, sir! P-please, don't eat me, Mr. Zombie!"

Ichigo's brows rose in a bemused expression. He sighed, "Get up. I'm not gonna eat you. I'm not a zombie. There must have been some mix-up or something." _A very bad mix-up._

"Oh, but it wasn't!" the man said as he stood, keeping his timid posture as he trembled. "Y-your heart stopped and everything! Cardiac arrest!"

"That's nonsense," Ichigo said as he held his hand against his chest, "my heart is just f—"

Ichigo jolted to a stop. He frantically pat at his chest with both hands. He even tried other pulse points. Nothing. No pulse. No _heartbeat_.

There was an intense feeling of wrongness that Ichigo couldn't shake as he realized this.

"That… that can't be right," Ichigo muttered as he futilely searched for a pulse point he would not find. "Where— where is it? Where's my heartbeat?" That was when another question dawned on him. "How am I alive right now?!"

The man shrugged unhelpfully, "I don't know. That's why I said you must be a zombie. Are you sure you're not starting to get an insatiable craving for brains?"

Ichigo's brows knit together as he drew back with an incredulous look on his face, "Wh—ye— _ **no**_! What kind of fucked up question is that?!"

"A realistic one," the man quipped quietly, "never can be too sure when the zombie apocalypse may come."

"Okay, but I'm not a zombie. Honest. I need to hurry so I can tell my family I'm not dead yet," he said, then startled, "oh god, Yuzu and Karin must be devastated… I gotta go!"

Ichigo bolted out the door.

"Hey, you can't just leave! What about my job?!"

"What _about_ your job?" Ichigo asked. "I'm not dead, so you don't need to do your job. Just… I don't know. Go home. Take a chill pill, relax or whatever. Just leave me out of it!"

Ichigo started to leave, but then got a really mean idea. He looked over his shoulder at the man with a dark look in his eye, "And if you tell anyone about what you saw tonight, I'll come back and eat your brain."

"B-b-but you said you're not a zombiiiee!"

He had such a hard time concealing his laughter as he left the man traumatized. It wasn't like he'd actually do it or anything. All in good fun. Hopefully, the guy wouldn't go around blathering to people about some person who woke up without a heartbeat now.

* * *

Ichigo arrived home under the dark shroud of night. He assumed it was very late, and yet there was a light on in the house. Just one.

Ichigo went to open the door and was astonished to find it locked.

"Oh right," Ichigo muttered after a moment, "of course it's not unlocked. The only reason Dad never locked it was because I was always out late."

His dad wouldn't continue that habit if he believed Ichigo to be dead. Ichigo didn't want to think about that.

Steeling himself, Ichigo knocked on the door. At first, nothing happened.

Then he heard a clatter and crash from within the house. Stumbling footsteps.

The door opened, "I'm sorry for the delay, I was organizing my son's funeral…"

Downcast, sorrowful, red and swollen eyes with deep and dark circles beneath them slowly looked up. It took a few seconds for realization to set in, then those eyes widened.

"I-Ichigo?!"

Ichigo smirked, "Can't get rid of me that easily, old man."

"You're… you're alive! My son. My son, my boy, you're alive!"

Ichigo nearly fell over when his father tackle hugged him, "Oof! Yeah, yeah. I'm alive."

He really wanted to cherish the moment, but hyperaware of his state as he was, he gently pushed Isshin away after a couple tense seconds of embracing him. He didn't miss the hurt look that flashed in his father's eyes, and it made his heart ache to see it. He couldn't risk letting his father hug him long enough to notice that something critical was missing in his chest.

Isshin straightened up and coughed to clear his throat, "How? How is this possible? I thought you were… d…" he choked on his words momentarily. He bit his lip, swallowed thickly. "Dead?"

Ichigo shrugged, "I don't know, Dad. It's a miracle. I was dead, but I came back."

At least he could answer that truthfully.

Isshin's eyes were tearing up, "My baby boy! You're alive! You're really alive!"

Ichigo shook his head as he chuckled, "I'm glad you're happy and all, Dad, but can we go inside? It's a little chilly out."

"Of course, of course. I'm sure you're exhausted."

* * *

The next day was one big emotional roller coaster. Every time he ran into a familiar face, he had to go through the same routine. First came the disbelief, the denial, as they tried to piece together what they were seeing. Then they'd smother him with attention as they finally comprehended they weren't just seeing things. It was all very tiring to him, but he endured it.

Apparently, he'd been 'dead' for a while. Nearly a week, in fact. Plenty long enough for many people to hear the news.

That being said, attending classes was quite the experience. Teachers would stare at him in shock as they saw his previously vacant seat was now filled, all the blood draining from their faces as if they'd seen a ghost (an ironically accurate analogy for the given situation).

He had to conceal his laughter as the teachers attempted time and time again to appear unaffected by the fact that Ichigo was alive and not a corpse rotting six feet under. It wasn't every day a guy came back from the dead.

By the end of the day, Ichigo was exhausted and ready to go home and crash in his bed, but his eyes then caught the date.

Today was the day he and Gin had agreed to meet. He thunked his head down on his desk. _Great_.

* * *

They met at a coffee shoppe. Nothing too fancy, just a humble corner shoppe with a few different brews of coffee and some freshly homemade snacks.

Gin was already seated in a corner booth, his hands clasped around a big, steaming mug. Ichigo strolled right over and slid in the seat opposite of him.

"What you got there?" he asked, nodding at the mug.

"Oh, this?" the silver-haired man held up the mug. "Spiced cider. I know this is a coffee shoppe, but they really do make the best cider in town. Which reminds me, why don'tcha go 'head and pick whatever ya want from the menu. On me."

"O-oh," Ichigo was surprised by the offer. He perused the small menu in front of him on the table, "you're too kind."

"Go on," Gin waved a hand at him, "I'm not short on cash or anythin', so don't ya worry about them pesky prices. Just pretend everythin's free."

Ichigo grinned, a sweat drop rolling down the back of his neck. Easy for _him_ to say. He skimmed the list, "Huh, well… I guess I'll try the caramel macchiato, and can I get a chocolate chip cookie?"

"O' course," Gin said, then flagged down the waitress running around and taking orders. He smiled charmingly at the lady, "hey, ma'am, can I get a caramel macchiato and yer specialty cookie for my friend here?"

Ichigo had no idea what the 'specialty cookie' was, but the waitress's eyes lit up in recognition.

"Right away, sir! Will that be all for you?"

Gin nodded, and she ran off to fill the order.

Ichigo cocked his head curiously, raising a brow at the man, "'Specialty cookie'?"

"Patience, my friend, is a virtue," he replied with a smirk.

Ichigo's brows furrowed and he squinted suspiciously at Gin, "Right… so about why we're here."

Gin held up his hand to stop Ichigo, "No talk of business. Food in yer belly first, then the talkin' comes later."

Ichigo bit his tongue and sat on what he wanted to say. It was a nice afternoon, not too hot, not too cold. Many people were outside, enjoying the sunshine and wonderful breeze. Some were at the park.

He watched as a mother and child casually strolled past by the shoppe window. The girl had an ice cream cone, looked like strawberry flavor.

His order was set on the table beside him with a _clunk_.

"Caramel macchiato and one specialty cookie!" the waitress announced cheerily.

Ichigo looked back to the table. His eyes widened, his jaw dropping, "This is a _cookie_?!"

Try lava cake. The chocolate chip cookie made the volcano shape of it and hot, melted chocolate dripping slowly out the opening at the top was the 'lava'. There was a scoop of vanilla ice cream on the side, as well.

"Yup! Our specialty cookie," the waitress chirped.

"Just try it," Gin told him, "take a bite. I promise ya, it's good."

Ichigo didn't doubt that for a moment. He hesitantly took a bite, "Oh my god," he moaned. Ichigo had never known how heavenly one dessert could be.

"Thought ya would appreciate it. Yer a chocolate lover, am I right?" Gin asked.

"Yes," he answered, trying not to talk with his mouth full. But it was just so good. "Chocolate's my favorite dessert. How did you know?"

"Lucky guess. Now we can talk whenever yer read."

Gin waited patiently, sipping occasionally at his cider while he waited for Ichigo to finish his 'cookie'.

Ichigo finished the last bite and pushed the plate away, "Okay, so about what you know…"

"It's not much, really. I mostly only know secondhand stories. Such as for instance, ya and yer partner are intertwined by Fate herself, and have existed for nearly as long as the world itself. Yer main purpose was to enforce the peace."

"I find that a little hard to believe," Ichigo said after taking a sip of his coffee.

"We all do," Gin agreed, "it's only legend. No one really believes it. Well, not all of it anyway."

"Then why bring it up?" Ichigo frowned. He got the impression Gin was one of those people who enjoyed their riddles.

"Every rumor, every successful lie, has some glimpse of the truth within it," he replied mysteriously.

"So you're saying that it's true?" Ichigo asked, thoroughly confused.

"I didn't say that."

Ichigo narrowed his eyes with a growl, "We are so not playing this game."

Gin grew silent, contemplative as he stared down into his mug. After a pregnant pause, he looked up, "Do ya know of the Arrancar gang?"

The teen gasped, a short inhale of breath, "The new gang that popped up, rumored to be led by Sosuke Aizen himself? I've heard of them, sure. Most people around here have."

"I expected as much, but have ya heard the other rumors?"

This was news to Ichigo. Slowly, he asked, "What other rumors?"

"Ya didn't hear it from me, but they say there's this one member workin' for them. Real strong guy. He's always wearin' a hood and sunglasses, so no one really knows much about what he looks like. I'm not one for poetry, but supposedly, he's got skin and hair as white as freshly fallen snow."

It couldn't be… but it sounded just like him.

"Shiro?!" Ichigo asked incredulously.

"Who knows?" Gin's voice was the epitome of nonchalance. "I hear the guy's Aizen's best hitman though."

Ichigo's face fell, "That doesn't sound like the Shiro I know—"

He froze mid-sentence. Had he really just said what he thought he said? He shouldn't remember Shiro at all. Yet he had spoken of him as if he knew him fondly, as if he unconsciously remembered what Shiro was supposed to be like.

"Curious," Gin commented, "it would seem that whatever made ya forget couldn't erase everythin'."

"Perhaps not," Ichigo replied dully. He shook his head with a sigh, "I still can't remember much of anything though. Just flashes and short bits and pieces here and there. Nothing that can really be strung together to form a coherent story. At least, not yet."

"That's no good."

"No, it's not," he said, scowling, "... hey, you know a lot about the Arrancar."

Gin sipped at his cider with a leisurely pace, then set down his now empty mug, "Yes. Ya could say that. Why ya askin'?"

"You wouldn't happen to know a way that I could… um… infiltrate?"

Gin opened his normally squinted eyes, seemingly permanent smile dropping, "Why would ya wanna go an' do a thing like that?"

"I don't have high hopes, but it's the only lead I've got. If it really is Shiro you're talking about, I _need_ to meet him," Ichigo was desperate. He tried to make Gin see how important this was.

"I might know of a way," Gin admitted after an excruciatingly long minute of silence.

"Great, what is it?" Ichigo perked right up.

"But I can't help ya."

"What?!"

Gin stood up, leaving a few big bills on the table for the waitress, "I must be goin' now. Business meetin' soon, very important."

"You're leaving? Just like that?" he demanded. Ichigo slammed a fist on the table. This wasn't fair. It was like he'd dangled some bait in his face, and just the moment he was interested, snatched it away.

"Yep," the man replied, "oh, and a word of advice to ya… Whatever ya do, don't go searchin' around downtown tonight. Wouldn't want someone slicin' up that pretty lil face of yers. Bye bye now."

Ichigo watched him go and knew one thing was certain.

He had a gang to look for tonight. Screw Gin's warning.

* * *

He wasn't searching long before he found himself in a highly familiar situation. Namely, the kind where he was pressed against a wall in a way that had him within a hair's breadth of death. Only this time, he was in a tight stranglehold, pressed hard against the brick wall.

"Sunshine, I thought I told you to quit skulking around here," the same blue-haired man growled from behind him.

No matter how Ichigo struggled, he couldn't get loose.

"Since your first lesson didn't sink in, looks like we gotta do this the hard way," the man said.

He then began leading Ichigo deeper into the alleyway until they reached a heavy looking metal door. It was guarded by a scary looking buff guy who honestly looked like he could effortlessly crush a man's skull…

… with his bare hands alone.

"Yammy, open the door. I need to see Aizen."

"What for?" the man asked, not budging so much as an inch to do as he was told. He sized up Ichigo, "And who's this you got here? I suppose you're wanting me to let _him_ in too?"

"That's right," said his captor, "this here's a little rat that was skulking around instead of minding his own damn business. I figure since I already gave him a warning, I'll just take him straight to the boss for judgement. Ain't that right, sunshine?"

Ichigo scowled at the man, "Fuck you!"

The stranglehold tightened impossible, shutting Ichigo up, "Temper, temper, sunshine. What language! I ought to wash your mouth out with soap for that."

The man guarding the door, Yammy, laughed at Ichigo's expense, "Okay, fine. I'll open the door."

Yammy did just that, and then Ichigo was being shoved into what looked to be a spacious warehouse. Inside were several people, some of which had visible numeric tattoos. Ichigo felt unnaturally cold as he realized he'd stumbled right into the exact place he'd been looking for, but not in the way he'd wanted to.

This was the Arrancar hideout.

A smug brunette man in a black suit, hair slicked back, stepped forward. He didn't even give Ichigo a second glance as he made eye contact with Ichigo's captor.

"What's this you've brought to us?" he asked.

"Some kid that was getting a little too close. This is the second time I've caught him coming so close to the entrance of the hideout. He wasn't deterred last time, so I figured I'd see what you wanted to do with him."

"Put him in a cell."

Oh hell no! He felt an intense rush of adrenaline, fight or flight kicking in, and damned if he wasn't going to at least try to escape.

Ichigo stomped as hard as he could on the blue-haired man's foot, thankfully managing to catch him off guard. His hold loosened, a string of curses falling from his lips, but Ichigo didn't pay that much mind. He spun around, sending an elbow into a spot at the man's center.

It winded him, and he was forced to let go of Ichigo entirely.

Ichigo saw his chance. He made a run for it.

"Fuck!" the blue-haired man wheezed from the floor, "You little bitch!"

There was something niggling at the back of his mind, as if he was forgetting something important. Ichigo threw open the door, and then he remembered what that important thing was.

"Going somewhere, shorty?"

His eyes slowly trailed up the gigantic mountain of a muscular man until they fell on the man's smirking face. Yammy cracked his knuckles against his palm.

Ichigo chuckled nervously, turning to look for another escape route.

However, as he turned, he was mercilessly tackled by the man he'd only just escaped from.

"You'll regret that, sunshine," he growled in Ichigo's ear.

Ichigo's breaths were coming in short gasps. He searched frantically for something he could use to escape. There weren't any nearby things he could weaponize.

There was the metallic click of handcuffs from behind him.

He was screwed.

Ichigo watched the crowd of Arrancar gathering around.

Among the people there, watching as he was restrained, Ichigo caught a familiar face. That face gave him a fleeting feeling of hope that he seized like the life line it might have truly been.

"Gin!" he cried.

The man with slicked back brown hair turned a calm gaze on the silver-haired man wearing his fox mask, "The boy knows your name, Gin…"

Gin shrugged with a light laugh, "He wouldn't be the first."

This sent a wave of panic rushing through Ichigo. His face fell, but the sorrowful expression was soon replaced by blazing fury, "Gin! Why are you lying?! Tell them I haven't done anything—"

"Look, kid," Gin stepped forward, fisting a hand in orange hair to force Ichigo to look up at him, "it's cute an' all that ya think ya know me, but yer gonna get me in trouble if ya keep it up. I dunno why ya know my name, but if ya don't shut yer trap, I'll do it for ya."

Ichigo gulped audibly, an irrational fear overcoming him, "Gin? I-I don't underst—"

Ichigo was interrupted by Gin's fist slugging him across the face, "I **said** _shut up_. Let that be a warnin'."

The punch had sent Ichigo toppling out of his captor's grip and onto his side. No one bothered to pick him back up, so he just lay there helplessly with his cheek pressed against the stone floor. He watched from his sideways perspective as Gin turned back to the others.

"Put 'im in a cell."

With that, he was roughly pulled up from the floor by his shoulders and shoved forward, "Get moving."

It was the same blue-haired guy who'd dragged him in here in the first place. Hands cuffed together as they were, Ichigo knew he stood no chance. He just obediently walked forward until they got to a set of stairs.

"What are you waiting for? We're not there yet. Move it," the last two words were emphasized with a strong kick to his lower back.

Ichigo gasped for breath and teetered on the edge of the step, terrified for a fleeting moment that he'd fall down every single one of them. He saw his life flashing before his eyes as he started to fall, but then he was roughly grabbed by the back of his shirt.

"Ugh, you can't even take a single kick properly. Get down those damn stairs, now," the man said, grumbling to himself as Ichigo obeyed.

At the bottom of the stairs were the cells. They were all empty. He was led to the first one and locked inside.

"Nighty night, sunshine. Hope you enjoy your stay… it's gonna be a long one…"

There wasn't even a bed…

* * *

 _Again, he was leaving. For how long, Ichigo knew not, but as he watched Shiro's back gradually getting farther away, he couldn't stop himself from calling out._

" _Shiro, wait!"_

 _The pale man turned and waited, an expectant expression on his face._

 _Ichigo gulped, "K… Can you kiss me like you used to?"_

 _There was a peculiar expression of utter shock on Shiro's face for a moment. It soon broke out into the widest grin._

" _O' course, Ichi!"_

 _He couldn't help but smile back as Shiro came back and kissed him softly. Shiro was still the same old Shiro._

* * *

"Oh, how the mighty have fallen, Ichi…"

Ichigo knew that voice. He moaned in pain as he rolled over on the cold stone floor. He opened one bleary eye.

Wrapped around two of the bars of his cell were long, slender white fingers, each tipped with black nails. Ichigo looked beyond those hands to a painfully familiar face.

Ichigo's first attempt at speech was miserable. His throat was terribly parched, so when he did manage to speak, his voice came out raspy, "Shiro…?"

"In the flesh," he replied, "never expected to see ya here of all places."

"Yeah…" Ichigo trailed off. He gave Shiro a weak smile, "I got backstabbed."

Shiro snickered softly, "Tell me 'bout it… Ah, let me guess. Ichimaru Gin."

"How'd you know?!"

"That snake is the trickiest bastard in the Arrancar. Aizen's righthand man, a matter o' fact."

"He was leading me by the nose from the start then?" Ichigo asked pitifully.

It just figured. He took one step forward only to realize after the fact that he'd already taken three steps back, and that just landed him here. In a cell. The only foreseeable positive to the situation was that he'd finally found Shiro. For what it was worth.

"Most likely. On the bright sides, I _might_ know a way to get ya outta here. Don't count on it though. And if I got a way, it'll take a while," Shiro informed him.

Suddenly, someone was coming down the stairs. Shiro slipped a pair of sunglasses out of his hoodie pocket and put them on, pulling his hood down farther to better conceal his appearance.

"Oi, Zero! Get your ass upstairs. Aizen's calling for you," said the blue-haired man as he came up behind Shiro. The man was giving Ichigo the stank eye, he was sure of it.

Shiro smirked at the blue-haired man, "Yeah, yeah, Grimmjow, fuck off. I'll be up in a minute."

"... Okay," the man now known as Grimmjow sneered, but was oddly complacent. He turned to go, only once glancing back over his shoulder with a suspicious look, "no hanky-panky with the prisoner."

"Keep it in yer pants, Grimm, not everyone's like that," Shiro retorted without missing a beat. He made shooing motions with his hands at the man.

He lingered for a moment after Grimmjow left, then started to leave himself.

"W-wait!" Ichigo called.

"Hm?" Shiro stopped, his back to the teen.

"K… can you kiss me? Like you used to?" Ichigo asked softly, unknowingly echoing the words from his dream. He was embarrassed by how shy he was acting, and it showed in the form of a deep red flush on his cheeks.

Shiro gave pause a peculiar expression on his face. He recognized the question. Shiro turned and walked back over to Ichigo's cell. He reached a hand through the bars for Ichigo. Ichigo stood, grabbing hold of the hand and allowing himself to be pulled forward.

It was awkward. The bars were hard and cold against either of his cheeks, but Shiro's lips were so soft and warm. It was brief, chaste. They couldn't afford more than that in such a place, but it was like Ichigo's body remembered the moments such as this shared with him, and something within his soul seemed to soar as it was fulfilled.

When Shiro pulled away, Ichigo whined softly.

"Why're ya so cold?" Shiro whispered, eyes searching.

"Eh, there aren't any blankets in the cell, so—" Ichigo started to say. Shiro held up a hand.

"No. Yer like a corpse, cold as the dead," Shiro told him.

Ichigo shuddered. That was painfully close to the mark. Dammit, he shouldn't have asked for that kiss. He was regretting it already.

"Well, you… you see," Ichigo avoided eye contact, eyes darting to the left.

"Ichi," Shiro said sternly, getting Ichigo to nervously look back at him, "don't lie to me."

Ichigo held his breath. He looked away again. What did he do? Tell the truth? Make something up? But they had a bond. Shiro could probably tell if it was a lie, and was it really right of him to just lie about it? It wasn't. He couldn't lie to Shiro in the name of 'protecting' him like he did with everyone else. He could tell at least him.

"How do I put this?" he asked with a sigh. "I think— er, I _know_ that… ah… I died."

Shiro's eyes narrowed. He didn't speak.

So the orange-haired teen went on, "It was a week ago. I was running a high fever, and then I passed out. I don't know the specifics, but I do know that I woke up in a morgue. When I did, I realized that my heart was no longer beating. I don't know how I'm here, but I am."

"This… ain't right," Shiro said slowly, "this ain't natural, Ichi. I dunno why a thing like this would happen, but ya shoulda died and reincarnated. Somethin' got fucked up big time."

"I'd have to agree with you, but it's not like we can do anything about it," Ichigo replied.

Shiro hummed in thought, "No, maybe not… Say, did anythin' strange happen before ya died? Anythin' unusual at all?"

"I don't know. Like what?"

His partner cocked his head to the side, "Hmm… like, maybe runnin' into someone strange. Findin' strange artifacts, or some such nonsense."

"I don't think so…" Ichigo jolted to a stop. No, that wasn't quite right. "Actually, there _was_ something! A few days before that was when I first ran into Gin. That was when he gave me some white marble for some reason, and then he just ran away."

"Wait, ya can't mean…" Shiro's eyes widened behind his shades, "the Hougyoku?!"

The name caused stabs at Ichigo's brain as snippets of memory flashed in his mind. The name had eluded him, but as it was spoken in the waking realm, it came rushing back to him. Ichigo took in a breathy gasp of air, "I think you're right."

"D— do ya still have it?!" Shiro asked him desperately. He wrapped his hands around the bars, staring at Ichigo fiercely, "Tell me where it is, quickly! It's dangerous to have it around regular humans!"

 _It's dangerous to have it around regular humans!_

…

 _ **It's dangerous to have it around regular humans!**_

…

The orange-haired teen took a step back, "What?!"

"The Hougyoku can't be kept around regular humans. Least not without the proper protective measures bein' taken," Shiro explained, "there's no tellin' what adverse effects it could have on someone. It could be anythin' from terminal illness to somethin' worse. It could turn a person into a bloodthirsty monster. It's a powerful, terrifyin' thing, Ichigo. Please tell me ya know where it is."

"Um… you see… I kind of… lost it, I think…"

"Ya _what_?!" Shiro demanded incredulously.

Ichigo snapped a hard glare at Shiro, "Don't use that tone with me! I didn't even know what it was until just now! I just found out a few days ago that I'm some special being that reincarnates and I can't even _remember_ any of it... Besides, I could've sworn I had it in my pocket up until I died, but maybe it fell out somewhere after I passed out. As far as I know, it's gone now."

"... Gone…" Shiro fell to his knees, staring blankly past Ichigo, "gone, ya say… ya lost an artifact that can effectively create legions of demons… it could be anywhere… oh god…"

"I'm sorry, okay?!" Ichigo scowled at Shiro. "If I had known it was that important, I'd have kept a better eye on it."

Eventually, the pale man came back to his senses. He blinked a few times before his eyes settled coolly on Ichigo, "No, I'm sorry. I keep forgettin' that yer not the Ichi ya used to be. Ya couldn't have done much 'bout it."

Ichigo wasn't sure whether to feel grateful or insulted by the statement. He didn't have to react though, because Shiro was already leaving.

"I gotta get this next contract, so I'll be gone for a while. Try not to get killed while I'm gone."

Ichigo wilted against the bars, "Gee, thanks…"

* * *

 **Author's Note: Because of course, what kind of author would I be if I didn't end every chapter with an unresolved conflict? I just like making people hate me.**

 **Catch any grammatical errors, mistakes, glaring plot holes? Let me know! As usual, my stories are un-beta'd, so I could have missed a typo here or there. Whether you loved it, or absolutely loathed it with the burning passion of a thousand suns, please review and let me know so I know where to improve.**

 **Also, feel free to ask questions. They help fuel the next chapter.**

 **Until next time!**


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